


Lavellan's Survival

by DemureWitch



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Related, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5633041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemureWitch/pseuds/DemureWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Far beyond the common man's comprehension, Inquisitor Lavellan has once again cheated death and miraculously survived what (as is believed by many) would have killed any other. Cullen finds himself greatly relieved that she has returned to him.</p><p>(Post events of In Your Heart Shall Burn)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lavellan's Survival

**Author's Note:**

> This is simply my take on a canonical event from the game, written for a friend. I hope you enjoy! x

Lavellan felt as though she had been walking for days. Surely, this was not so, but her legs ached as though it were. Her body trembled viciously from cold, as the blistering winds pushed at her. It was ruthless in its action, almost as if it were pointedly attempting to keep her from her goal. Her teeth chattered as she struggled to regain her breath, which she had long since lost her ability to control. Now she wheezed loudly with each intake, and she could hardly feel the air reaching her lungs; she wondered vaguely if it was.

Her legs seemed to sink endlessly into the snow with each step. She wavered as she continued on ever so slowly, hardly able to keep herself upright. She was thankful, at the very least, that the pain all throughout her had finally subsided to a relieving numbness. It was a tedious process, and she wasn’t sure if she had even made it far at all. She hoped she had. If she couldn't catch them, who else could tell them of this archdemon, this... 'Corypheus?' Who else could close the tears remaining in the sky? She needed to find them, to warn them. Even if it took her dying breath, she would warn them.

Images flashed through her mind of the flaming ruins that once were, so shortly ago, Haven. It still felt as though it were a dream. The balls of flames flying every which way, the piercing cry of the dragon that she could still feel ringing in her ears, the screams of those trying to escape. She hoped they had made it out safely, that they had all made it to Cullen's aid and that this path would lead them out alive. Solas, Varric, and Cassandra. They had all been with her, fighting, before Corypheus had appeared. Did they flee when she was believed to be dead? She didn't blame them, but she wish she knew where the path would lead them, where they had gone. She needed to know she was going in the right direction. What she did know is that she wouldn't make it much further if she wasn't.

Her eyes were nearly slipping closed as she came upon what appeared to have been a camp. Not much remained: a pit for a fire, remnants of tents, and perhaps a few forgotten items strewn about. This could only have been them, right? So near to Haven, set up and departed from in what must have been a hurry, given the looks of it. The stakes for the tents weren't even in the ground properly. Stepping to the pit, she could feel the dying waves of heat being emitted from the coals.

"Embers... Recent?" She mumbled to herself, almost feverishly, in hope. Using the last of her willpower, she pushed on. She swore she could hear voices, she could nearly imagine the dark shapes of people in the distance, through the falling snow that blurred her vision. But... The snow had stopped a while before, had it not? Placing a slightly blued hand above her eyes, it did nothing, for there were no snowflakes to block from them, and the edges of her vision continued to darken. She could faintly hear the sounds of someone yelling before she collapsed into the snow. She waved it off as a figment of her imagination as the exhaustion finally overtook her body, sure this was to be the end of her.

**...**

Lavellan's advisors left the remaining soldiers to watch over the people at their temporary encampment, as they themselves opted to set out and search for her. They refused to send out a party, far too worried to be left restless and waiting, and unwilling to send any more men into danger. When told that what leadership the Inquisition still had were to trek back to Haven in search of her, many complained. Either that they were risking their lives on account of a dead woman, or that they needed to keep moving if they were to stay safe; their concerns were heard but ignored nonetheless. They could not fix the world without her.

Well, these were the words of Cassandra and Leliana. Cullen agreed with them, of course, verbally. But his reasonings were much more personal. She was more than some mark. His mind was frantic, and the tight pain in his chest had been steadily growing since the moment her three companions had emerged from Haven without her. He was fidgeting endlessly as they argued over their course of action, pacing back and forth within the confines of the tent. His words — oddly enough, after all that had just occurred — seemed to have more might in them, more strength. He did not say much, but was insistent on the idea of finding her. Once they were agreed, he walked briskly out of the entrance and started up into the mountains. Baffled by his impatience, Cassandra and Leliana informed the people and soldiers of their intentions before they themselves were off, jogging to catch up to him as he had not stopped to wait.

"It's her!" Leliana's voice sounded after a surprisingly short while of them walking. Cullen immediately perked up, and something in his stomach flurried as he spotted her a ways off from them. The three of them hurried towards her simultaneously.

"Thank the Maker!" Cassandra's words of praise came just as she fell to the ground. Cassandra was quick to reach for her, mumbling something under her breath in worry. "Here, help me with her. We need to get her back to—"

"No," Cullen growled and took hold of Cassandra’s arm as she started pulling at Lavellan, attempting to get her off the ground. "I— I mean, I've got her," Cassandra, though slightly confused, nodded and stepped back from her. Kneeling down, he pulled at his clothing, removing the fur from around his shoulders and the thin fabric that laid over his armor. Pulling her gently into his lap, he looked at her face. She's alive. His heart was once again beating warmly, and a smile of relief grew on his lips. But upon closer inspection, her ordinarily pale skin was an even lighter shade, and her lips were tinted dangerously purple. Removing one of his gloves, he placed a hand to the side of her face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her skin was colder than the chill of the wind. He didn't have time to be happy, yet. They needed to get her back to camp and make sure she was alright. Quickly, he wrapped the fabric and fur tightly around her frigid body, and slipped his gloves onto her hands before lifting her softly into his arms. "Let's hurry."

His two companions watched as he once again walked ahead of them, fretting extensively over the woman in his arms. "What has gotten into him, I wonder?" Cassandra wondered aloud. Leliana set forth without giving her an answer, a knowing grin upon her face.

**...**

Soon after they had arrived back, the camp was buzzing with the news that the Dalish elf had done it again. She had "come back from the dead once more." She was now settled nicely into dry clothing, Cullen's fur and fabric re-wrapped nicely around her, and what few blankets they could spare atop her as she laid unresponsive and still. Once everyone had cleared out of the tent to let her rest, he stayed sitting by her side, rubbing her cold skin in attempt to get the blood running, and holding her hand tightly. He mumbled quiet prayers to himself throughout the night.

"The Maker has brought you back to me. Now you need to stay, do you hear? I won't send you into harm’s way again." He kissed her hand softly, looking at her with a longing he'd never known. "I never expected to feel this way... Such affections have never coursed through me quite the way they do for you. And thought you flirt, I doubt you would feel the same. But all you have to do is wake up, and I'll tell you—" he shook his head, laughing softly at his own foolishness. "Just how often you're on my mind."

Hours later, around the crack of dawn, Lavellan stirred in her sleep. Her head ached, and she shivered, but she felt something warm and comforting on her chest. Trying and failing to sit up, she blinked her eyes open in confusion, finding the commander fast asleep directly on her ribs, his hand intertwined with one of her own. A light blush dusted over her cheeks, and as she looked down to find his famous fur around herself, she smiled. Glancing back to him, she ran her free hand through his hair, and it warmed her fingers. "Oh commander, how you care," her voice cracked as she whispered to herself, and her smile widened slightly. In all truth, it spread a warmth through her chest that there was no denying. She watched him sleep, and listened to the mumbles of his slumber until she drifted back off herself.

This is how they were found the next day. No one quite had the heart to wake them.


End file.
